


The Night he said Hello

by DeadliestPrince



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-12-15
Updated: 2016-12-29
Packaged: 2018-09-08 16:17:34
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,524
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8851657
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DeadliestPrince/pseuds/DeadliestPrince
Summary: Pidge has known ever since she was a little girl that she's been able to see and communicate with ghosts and spirits. Now that she's older it hardly fazes her anymore. However after moving into her new house, the last thing she expected was to have a roommate.





	1. Routine

**Author's Note:**

> I might actually add on to this in the future, I'm not sure. Maybe I'll make this longer if I'm convinced, otherwise I'm content with leaving it this way.

The old floor beneath her creaked with every step, the panels like music to her ears as she yawned and drew her robe a little closer. Approaching the staircase she hesitated, eyes scanning the area around her as they darted from the bottom of the stairs to the end of the hallway, just to her right. Lips pursed as she foolishly tried to think ahead whilst her brain was still recovering from a four hour slumber. Rubbing at her eyes before they fell on the cushioned end of the stairs, lined with most of the pillows from her bed and a few from the only loveseat she owned. A deep breath to indicate that she was ready as her foot rose to take the footstep, paused and waited.

 

Nothing.

 

Blinking in a bit of confusion she ran a hand through her messy bedhead and lowered her foot, shifting her weight only to try the other, keeping it in the air for a solid minute before she deemed it unbelievable. Again her head turned from side to side, raking her mind for possibilities but he had never been this late before. Now this was just unreasonable, a few seconds sure but his tardiness was sure to be held against him in the future.

 

What was he waiting for?

 

Pidge looked down at her toes for a moment, wiggling them as a reminder to herself that she needed to clip them soon. Reluctantly, she took the first step in what seemed like forever. She had nearly forgotten what the stairs felt like under her feet. Then another and still, his absence continued. For the past three months, he's arrived at the same time every morning despite how much she would have gladly appreciated a day off. Today wasn't any different from then and yet, he chose not to show? There was some sort of catch that she had yet to see and that alone caused a groan to escape as well as a roll of her eyes.

 

After waiting a dangerously long amount of time on the second step, she proceeded on her way down with ease and for the first time in months it felt like the average morning. The dreary realization of waking up and the fact that she still had to be at her local pink collar job within an hour and a half. Bangs lining her eyes and a scowl that only coffee could fix, it felt too good to be true.

 

And sure enough, it was

 

Mid-step a familiar pair of hands suddenly forced their way into her back, sending her body flying and toppling down the rest of the way. Her fall cushioned by the assortment of pillows and grouchily, she hoisted herself up onto her feet, glaring behind her at what appeared to be nothing but she knew better than to trust her eyes. "Bastard." She spat, more than the usual morning attitude. "You're getting sloppy." Turning on her heels, she wandered into the kitchen to begin the regular routine. A cup of coffee and toast should do the trick, it always did. Dragging her feet, her tongue ran along a pair of chapped lips in poor attempt to make up for last night's mistakes. Neglecting to pay attention to anything other than the information provided to her on the screen of her laptop. As per usual, her friends would say and shrug it off without another thought. It was typical of her and that was enough for them to dismiss it.

 

The soft clatter of dishes caught her attention however, turning her head just in time to see the cabinet doors fly open, followed by a plate or two shooting from the shelf only to crash land on the table and shatter into pieces. "Hey!" Another plate flying out, hitting the same area.

 

" _Hey!_ "

 

And another.

 

Pidge shoved her mug aside, rushing over to the pair of cabinet doors to hold them shut with little fight from him. "If you're mad don't take it out on the things I own!" She was almost fed up and would have moved out weeks ago if she wasn't stubborn enough to make a point. Of every spirit she had ever encountered, he was definitely the moodiest. Though it was odd that he refused to show himself to her or perhaps she just wasn't quick enough to catch him. Either way, it almost felt odd speaking to thin air, as anyone else would say. But she knew that something was there, the chilling feeling made his presence known and that was enough to confirm his whereabouts.

 

A long term of trial and error made her come to the conclusion of settling on a set of pronouns. An odd focus for someone she hardly knew, let alone saw but it felt better than trying her chances with referring to him as an "it". Several uses of the pronoun with no objections made her certain that she was correct or at least he seemed to like it.

 

The sound of her mug crashing onto the floor brought her away from her thoughts with a deep sigh.

 

It was going to be a long day, wasn't it?

 

* * *

  
  


Three hours past her usual, Pidge kicked the door closed and pinched the bridge of her nose as the frustration of dealing with arrogant customers rested heavy on her shoulders. Sighing softly before realizing the lack of light in the small space. She reached over to fumble for the light, a flick of the switch giving her no access to it. "What? No light tonight?" She hissed, really not in the mood to play any games. She was exhausted and if she had to, she'd feel her way around her house to get to her bed.

 

Kicking off her shoes god knows where, she began to map out the house in her mind, squinting as she hugged the wall to the staircase and the familiar fear of pillows surrounded her feet. Hastily making her way up the stairs and tackling the doorknob to her room, shaking it in frustration. "Knock it off already! I'm tired!" To her surprise it seemed to work as the door flew open just seconds after, causing her to stumble forth in a bit of shock but it was quickly dismissed as she dove for the mattress. Sleep beckoned and who was she to ignore it?

 

The cool hours of the night seemed to work against her, tossing and turning in her sleep in attempt to get comfortable. Her toes dug into the sheets, feet kicking as they searched for her blanket. A cold touch causing them to jerk and only stir her lightly. Soon flopping over onto her stomach which was proven to be a mistake.

 

A rush of pain coursed down her back and her eyes opened, widening as tears threatened to spill over if she would let them. Immediately rushing to stand on her feet, another mistake. Every move only made it worse as she waddled out of her room and down the hall to the bathroom. Holding her lower back as the damp, cool sensation not only ruined her shirt but made her heart race with fear as soon as her eyes were met with blood. She spun around, back to the mirror and slowly she lifted her shirt to reveal what looked like a cruel joke. Her skin was sliced---carved into like a piece of art, in an arrangement of letters to form a name.

 

Keith.

 

Her lips parted for a moment, another sarcastic comment maybe, an insult but nothing came out. Instead clenching her teeth and wincing at the pain as she let her shirt fall over the bloody mess on her back.

  
This was no ghost.


	2. Katherine

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry about this chapter being shorter than the last. I edited and tweaked but nothing seemed right. So hopefully the next is longer but until then, enjoy!

“I know that I’ve said some pretty crazy things in the past, but this is different.” Pidge tapped her fingers on the wooden surface of her kitchen table. Her eyes looked desperately at her friend as she looked for any sort of feedback. His hands folded and placed neatly on the other end as if the nice and polite gesture was to apologize for the frown resting on his lips. Hunk was always there, even in the weirdest situations. The guy had too much heart to give.

  
  
“Well, what makes you think this ghost is different from the rest?”

 

“He’s no ghost. Ghosts are spirits that are friendly and lost. They’re confused and need to be lead in the right direction. This **—** this is some demonic mess that I never signed up for. It’s possible it even wants to kill me and I’m not staying long enough for it to slit my throat, Hunk.” She huffed, adjusting the glasses sitting shakily on her nose and looking down at her fingers. He was listening, she could feel it. Waiting for her to mess up, a flaw in the system he had so carefully created, but for what? She had absolutely no clue. In all of her life she’d always been one step ahead, but this was currently kicking her ass; as much as she would have hated to admit it.

 

As if on cue, the gentle clink of her plates caught her attention briefly but had yet to fly across the room as she’s seen them do many times before. “Just a few nights ago he carved into my back like a goddamn piece of meat. There was blood everywhere, you have to believe me.” Leaning forward **;** her hands reached behind her to run along the lower spot of her back that she remembered the crude splay of letters cutting through her pasty flesh **—** but felt nothing. Not a single scratch. She had considered it being a dream or a nightmare rather, but it couldn’t have been. It all felt far too real, too sinister to be a trick of the mind. “I don’t know what happened to it; but I know that couldn’t have been a dream. Hunk you’re my only hope here, please.”

 

“I believe you, I never said I didn’t. I’m just worried about you, I know this is kind of a lot to handle, but you sound like you’re losing your mind, Pidge.” His frown dipped further, even exposing those pearly whites that just made her feel guilty; even if she hadn’t done anything in particular. “But if you’re sure that it’s dangerous... you can always stay with me and Lance.”

 

Pidge grimaced at the idea, shaking her head. “That’s almost a fate worse than death. I need a safe haven, not Lance. I’d sooner die via evil spirit than spending my evenings with him.” She would have continued with her rant if she weren’t distracted by the snapping of Hunk’s fingers. His eyebrows furrowed, eyes narrowed as he was desperately trying to remember something.

 

“Poltergeist.”

 

“What?”

 

“It’s a Poltergeist. I remember reading up on this after seeing the movie with Lance. They’re like ghosts but more violent and move objects around in your house.” Hunk’s frown let up as he conjured up the correct label for her paranormal roommate. “I don’t know if they’re always evil **—** thoughthey’re different from your average ghostly Joe. I’ll do some more research on it later but **—** ” He paused as the lights began to flicker and Pidge could feel herself becoming more and more afraid of sleeping in this dreadful house.

 

Hunk took a long huff before nodding towards the girl before him. “Look, if you don’t anger him, everything will be fine. Those things can harm you if they’re angry or so I’ve heard, that’s why they react so violently. They play tricks and try to haunt someone out— leech the life or something. It’s very dark if you think about it.”

 

"Now you tell me." She mumbled. “Don’t anger him. Right, I can do that.” She may have failed to mention that she had been taunting him the entire time. Thin fingers reached for the frames sitting crooked on her nose to adjust them, anervous habit that she had yet to drop. There wasn’t a chance in hell she hadn’t angered him already **,** but he seemed angry from day one... How on Earth was she supposed to keep calm about some evil spirit lingering around her house? Karma really was a bitch. “Isn’t there some way I can get _rid_ of it? No matter what I try he doesn’t seem to want to talk to me. He isn’t like the others.”

  
  
“I’ll have to do some digging around when I get home, but it’s kind of late. Just... try to get some rest and don’t do anything to upset him.” Hunk stood quicker than she would have liked, pushing in his chair. “We’ll talk about this some other time. Any longer and Lance will starve to death.” He chuckled, trying to make light of the situation; she would have found amusement in it had she not been terrified. Her feet didn’t hesitate to stay close behind him as he walked towards the front door, mumbling a small goodbye before she was left to face her doom alone yet again. So much for guidance.

 

However, the thought of a nice, hot shower sounded like a dream in hopes of washing most of her fears away and easing her nerves. Pidge walked to the bottom of the stairs, kicking at the pile of pillows for a moment—a soft reminder of the previous day’s events before jogging up the stairs and into the bathroom. The horrid memory of her transparent roommate’s stunt still lingered, fingers grazing over her lower back to double check. It was smooth of course, without a single scratch. She huffed and began to pull off article by article as she prepared herself for a long, relaxing shower.

 

After stepping in and letting the water dance upon her skin in sweltering drops, she let it drown her in purity, though it did nothing but give her temporary relief. Brown locks soaked after twenty minutes of letting the water take her. Letting another five pass by before she even thought to grab the soap, finally gliding it along her pale skin and shutting it off. She drew the curtain and carefully stepped out, wrapping a towel around her torso as she snatched up her glasses. Blinking and almost forgetting her reasoning for taking the shower in the first place, her eyes fell upon the foggy mirror. Keeping her feet in place as she stared, her fingers clutched the towel as if it’d do anything to protect her.

 

_Katherine._

  
Her birth name, which sounded so foreign now that she thought about it. Given her nickname, her legal name was hardly ever used. Now, it was carefully written on her mirror as if someone had walked in during her shower. Finally she drew up the courage to speak aloud. “What do you want?” It didn’t sound quite as demanding as she would have liked, but better than her quivering lip from before. Though she hadn’t expected much, speaking up was just another mistake as the fog on her mirror began to write to her yet again.

  
_Remember me, Katherine._


End file.
